When I'm Sixty Four
by willgirl
Summary: Created for a challenge issued from I Hart Booth. Involves syrup, gutters, pancakes and The Beatles!


**A/N: So I wasn't going to post it, but Bellabun made me so this is for her! This comes as a result of a challenge issued by I Hart Booth over at the Boneyard. The rules are:**

**1)Must be inspired by a Beatles song.  
2) Friendship or BB romance.  
3) Booth must say something that makes Brennan blush  
4) and in honor of one of my fave IHB disscussion topics must use the words: 'syrup' and 'gutter'**

**Hope you enjoy!**

When I'm Sixty Four 

"So why is it that I am standing in this underground gutter at three in the morning?" Dr. Temperance Brennan said, looking over at her partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth.

"Right this way, Bones." Booth said, leading her down the dark, damp underground tunnel. His boots were sloshing in the water and he was glad that he changed out of his expensive suit before calling his partner.

For her part, Brennan was thinking about how good he looked in his tight t-shirt and jeans. 'Stop it.' She thought to herself. 'He's just your partner.'

She trudged through the underground tunnel, trying to follow the beam of his flashlight. Suddenly she tripped and landed flat on her face.

"Oomph." She said, her face full of mud.

"Bones, are you okay?" Booth said, coming back and helping her up.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replied. "Oh except for the fact that I am covered in mud. Thanks a lot Booth."

He pulled her over to the side of the tunnel. The moonlight was streaming through one of the grates, illuminating both of their faces.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" he said worriedly.

"I'm fine Booth." She said, rubbing the mud off her face. "I probably look horrible though."

"You look beautiful." He replied, brushing some of the mud off her face.

She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and was suddenly glad that she had mud covering her face.

"Uhh… the crime scene." She said, stepping back nervously.

"Right." He replied.

They continued down the tunnel, the smell of decomposing flesh getting stronger and stronger. They turned a corner and came face to face with a body lying in a small puddle on the ground of the tunnel. There were lanterns set up and she noticed some of her equipment was already here.

"Who found this?" she asked.

"We don't know." He replied. "We got an anonymous tip. PD checked it out and called us."

"Woman, 20-25, stress fractures on both her arms and legs. It appears as if she was tied up before she was killed. I am going to have to take photos and samples and then we need to take the body back to the lab." She said.

He nodded and stood back, watching her as she continued assessing the body. He called for the forensics team to come and get the body.

It was nearly three hours later, by the time she finished her work and the forensic team had taken the body back to the Jeffersonian. They trudged back along the tunnel, this time Booth made sure he kept close to his partner. As they were climbing out of the tunnel, he had an idea.

"So, do you want to go to the diner for breakfast?" he said. To be honest, after what he just saw, he wasn't that hungry. But he just wanted to continue spending time with her.

She climbed out of the tunnel and looked at the sun rising over Washington.

"I don't think I am fit to be eating at the diner right now." She said, gesturing to her clothes.

"Oh, right." He replied, trying not to sound disappointed.

"How about pancakes?" she blurted out. "At my place, I mean."

He grinned. "Sure, I'd like that."

They reached her apartment as Brennan unlocked her front door, she wondered how one second she was standing over a dead body and the next she was inviting her partner up to her place for breakfast.

"Umm…just make your self comfortable. I just need to take a shower." She replied.

Booth nodded, trying to get the images of his partner naked out of his head.

She showered quickly, pushing thoughts of Booth away as she did. 'Think about the case.' She thought to herself. She dressed and headed back out to the living room where Booth was reading one of her forensic anthropology journals.

"Hey." She said softly.

He looked up and groaned inwardly. Her hair was wet and was resting around her shoulders. Drops of water rolled down her neck and into her chest. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

"Hi." He replied.

"So pancakes?" she asked, moving towards the kitchen.

"Sounds good." He said, getting up from the couch and following her.

He watched as she got the ingredients out and started mixing them in a big bowl.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"No that's okay." She replied, smiling back at him. "So when I get into the lab I will start analysis.."

"Stop!" he said, holding out his hand. "Let's not talk about the case right now, okay? I want to be able to eat some of those pancakes that you are making."

"You would think after two and a half years as partners you would stop being sick at the sight of remains." She chided.

"Three." He replied automatically.

"What?" she asked.

"We are almost at three years as partners." He said. He watched as she poured a pancake on the to skillet and then proceeded to think about what he had said. He loved watching her think, her brow furrowed slightly and she got this look of determination on her face like she knew she would get to the answer eventually.

"You are right." She said, flipping the pancake over. There was silence as she continued to make pancakes, dishing them out on two separate plates.

He could tell she was thinking hard about something.

She finished the pancakes and brought them over to the table.

"Syrup?" he asked.

"Oh right." She replied, opening the fridge and getting the butter and the syrup. They both buttered their pancakes and he smiled as he saw the quantity of syrup she put on hers.

"Booth?" she said, after a minute.

"Yes?" he replied, pouring syrup over his pancakes. They looked delicious.

"Do you think we will remain partners for a long time?" she asked.

"I hope so." He replied. "I hope that you will still need me," he paused as he took a bite of his pancake. "Mmm and still feed me, at least until I'm sixty four."

"Sixty four?" she queried.

"The mandatory retirement age for agents." He said.

"You think we will be partners until then?" she asked, putting her fork and knife down.

"I hope so." He replied, reaching over and placing his hand on top of hers.

She smiled back at him, knowing that she would still need him, long past the age of sixty four.


End file.
